


Campfire Stories

by KipRussel



Category: Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Copper is my friend's courier who this work is dedicated to ILYYYY, Found Family, Gen, Jo is from vault 81 and about 11 years old, Two OCs meet up in boston and become fast friends, Vault 81, fallout 4 OC, i mention hayburners which i know are a fan creation but im not sure who came up with them :O, the character mentioned named Elora is my sole survivor!, vaultdweller oc, waxing poetic about new vegas and boston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: Copper told her that the Mojave was long and sprawling. Jo asked if the Mojave didn’t have skyscrapers like Boston did. Copper thought about it, before deciding no, not like Boston. She said the Mojave was sprawling because you could see so far, and the foothills rolled and lulled, and deserts dipped and sand whipped through on the wind-paved alleyways. She said it didn’t rain much, but on the rare days it did, it poured and poured and poured till the land threatened flood.
Kudos: 1





	Campfire Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DigitalSiamese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalSiamese/gifts).



> I wrote this awhile back bc I adore DigitalSiamese and her NV Courier! I realized I never posted it here so I'm fixing that :)

Jo watched as the dying campfire sparked and sputtered in the night. Copper was prodding at it, turning the coals over to speed up their snuffing out. It sent loose embers up toward the stars. Jo watched them dance upward from her worn mattress, blanket pulled over her head. She lifted it just a crack to watch after promising Copper she’d go to sleep, though she was sure she wouldn’t mind if she was up. They had spent so much of the night talking and singing and laughing and sharing stories, before one ill-timed yawn from Jo resulted in a near-order to get some sleep. Jo snuggled her nose deeper into her blanket, watching her friend in the starlight and dying flames.

Copper told her that the Mojave was long and sprawling. Jo had thought the Commonwealth was pretty sprawling too, but she hadn’t much to compare it to outside the Vault and the books she’d read. Copper said Boston is open, but the Mojave is wide— a place to wear out shoe leather right quick. Jo liked those “Copper-isms”. Jo was sure she liked everything about Copper. Nick had once referred to Jo as “the personification of moxie”, which made her decide Copper was the personification of spunk, which led her to the conclusion that they were a wonderful pair.

She asked if the Mojave didn’t have skyscrapers like Boston did. Copper thought about it, before deciding no, not like Boston. She said ‘The Strip’— Jo made a mental note to ask about what it was specifically later— had buildings that stretched up tall, but nothing like the heart of Boston. She said the Mojave was sprawling because you could see so far, and the foothills rolled and lulled, and deserts dipped and sand whipped through on the wind-paved alleyways. She said it didn’t rain much, but on the rare days it did, it poured and poured and poured till the land threatened flood. She told her all about the water there, and the dam, which made Jo laugh, which she knew was immature, but it still was funny. 

Copper talked about how if you ventured far enough you could find snow and pine trees like out at the lodge. Jo still hadn’t seen snow yet, and she prayed it would snow bunches come winter. Sometimes traders would bring snow into the vault when they visited. They would gather around it in the schoolhouse or the store, and Austin would shove his whole palm in it, and Erin would squeal at the chill, and Jo would threaten to take it and make a snowball to launch in Bobby de Luca’s face. But it would melt eventually, and it was never as much fun as they hoped, because it was never enough to play in and make snowmen and snow angels and all the other snow things they learned about in school and on holovids and from books and comics. But now Jo could enjoy snow herself, and make as many snowballs as she wanted.

She asked Copper all about her travels and the creatures she’d seen. Jo hoped against hope that Copper might’ve seen something like an elephant, or a tiger, but she had grander stories of beasts that didn’t roam the Commonwealth. Things like ants as big as brahmin— _bigger than brahmin—_ that spat fire, and a bug called a _Praying Mantis_ , because it holds its arms in close like its getting ready to pray, and bighorners that live up to their name, and hayburners, which Jo thought was a rather apt name, though Copper said that there were bound to be some in the ‘Wealth as well. 

Jo blinked heavily, trying to fight the sleep in her eyes. She traced our constellations that Copper taught her, and made up new ones of her own. Maybe she could find a prewar book on stars. Then they could read it together. They could show Elora, and then find a big empty space in Diamond City, and teach Copper how to star trip, and laugh and laugh till the guards bark at them for being too loud, then stifle giggles as they go back to Takahashi’s to get snacks and drinks before crawling into bed. Jo was pretty sure there was nothing greater than watching the sky. She had dreamed of how beautiful it would be, and it beat every dream she had by a long shot.

Copper talked about the Mojave sunsets— how they glowed like light through a sarsaparilla bottle. Jo asked her to repeat that word, then asked what sarsaparilla was, before repeating it over and over to herself and giggling at the novelty of the word. Copper told her how blue the sky could get, and how gorgeous the dawn was, and how you could hear choruses of coyotes heralding the sun’s dip below the horizon, like a song to welcome the moon back into the sky. 

Copper taught her a bunch of songs that Travis never played on the radio. They were more like stories set to song, and they had a different sound to them than some of the Diamond City Radio songs. A different flavor, Jo decided. Maybe like Sarsaparilla. 

Jo’s eyes flitted back to Copper, still turning the few burning charcoals over and over in the dirt. Jo considered herself very lucky to find a friend who knew so much about the world. Especially someone who could appreciate it like Jo did. Jo fought to keep her eyes open, each blink getting slower and slower. She was certain Copper was the coolest person in the Commonwealth. And she couldn’t wait to spend the next day with her.

Jo fell asleep, and dreamt of singing along with the coyotes to welcome the Boston dawn.


End file.
